


Good

by merycula (thanksillpass)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksillpass/pseuds/merycula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>my first attempt at Spideypool</p>
    </blockquote>





	Good

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at Spideypool

Peter has been waiting for an hour. Just sitting here and waiting. Like always. When he finishes reading the book he has with him, he decides that Wade can kiss his ass. But as soon as he grabs his backpack, his phone rings.  
“Wade, where the hell are you, you asshole?!”  
“Hey. Hi. Hello. Listen, about that, I'm not coming, Petey.”  
Peter snorts and hangs up. He should be used to this by now. Somehow, he isn't. His phone rings several times during his way home, but he doesn't answer. When it starts ringing with twenty second intervals, he turns it off. He'll call Wade tomorrow. He always calls the next day, and pretends he hasn't been stood up the day before. Like nothing's happened. Wade probably thinks nothing has happened, anyway. Peter can play pretend. He's Spider-Man. 

He turns his phone on in the morning and calls Wade. He's done this so many times, his mouth runs on auto-pilot. Wade picks up almost instantly.  
“So what time are you picking me up today?” Peter asks cheerfully, before Wade has a chance to speak. There's a short pause.  
“Yeah, about that, Petey... Look, I went back home.”  
And Peter hangs up again. And turns off the phone. There's no way Wade would say anything even remotely similar to what Peter wants to hear, anyway. Wade's gone home. And that means he's gone-gone. Permanently. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Peter has knew that from the start. Still, no “good-bye,” no “I'm gonna miss you, Spidey,” not even a “it was fun while it lasted.” Harsh. But he shouldn't have expected anything else from Wade, really. Somehow, he did. 

He turns his phone on in the evening, because he thinks that it's safe now, and that he's calmed down, or whatever. It rings instantly. Has Wade been trying to reach him non-stop the whole day? That would be just stupid. Like, a whole new level of stupid. And so Wade. Peter smiles despite himself, and despite the things he's going to hear, and despite the question he has to ask. He presses the button, and his fingers don't even shake.   
“You don't plan on coming back to New York, do you?” he asks, awarding himself ten points for not sounding disappointed and hurt. And hopeful, against all odds, because he really can't help hoping for Wade to deny.  
“I, uh... no, I don't plan on it, no. Petey, liste-”  
“I see.” And a gold star for almost sounding indifferent.   
“You mad, bro?”  
It's so typical, it's endearing, so Peter has to let a laugh escape. Otherwise, something else could slip out. Like a sob. Or a wail. That would be pathetic. Like, really. He gets attached to easily. Especially to psychotic mercenaries that don't ever shut up with other people, but sometimes let Peter talk without interrupting him, and waiting for him to answer by himself, and even letting him interrupt them. Well, it is sweet. Makes him feel special. He sighs.  
“I'm not mad, Wade.”  
“Why? You should, I guess? I mean-”  
“Okay, so maybe I am. A little. A lot. But I get mad at you every five minutes, so what's it to you? What's the difference? Well, maybe it is a bit different, considering you were here, and now you're not, but... I'm sure you had a reason. I could list, like, a hundred things that are more important to you than me, starting with tacos, so it's not like I... Listen, I gotta go. Nice knowing you, Deadpool, please, don't keep in touch. If I keep turning my cell off, people will start thinking I'm dead. And I'm not. I'm fine. More than fine. I'm peachy. Thrilled at the prospect of having my stress-level reduced to a healthy one, if there even is such a thing, or healthy for a masked vigilante at least, now that you won't be here to... piss me off... Yeah. Like I said, gotta go, bye.”  
That was smooth. And not bitter at all. And so mature. They will take away your points and your gold star, Parker. At least Wade doesn't call back. 

So he's drunk. Hammered. Wasted. Shit-faced, really. So he calls Wade. Who picks up after what seems like a week.   
“Is it because I didn't let you buy me a Spidey-cave?” he asks and hiccups.  
“What? Oh. No, Spidey, it's because I have people to kill. I'm doing it right now, actually.”  
“It's okay, I'll hold, or something. I'm drunk anyway.”  
“Nah, I'm a multitasker. And also, wow, you really are, I didn't get my usual 'Wade, every time you kill a person, a chimichanga is dropped on a sidewalk.' I let a lot of chimichangas go to waste today, Petey, I feel the need to atone. Any ideas on how I do that? Do I have to, like, help some old hag across the street? Listen, douchebag, I'm talking to a friend here, so be a doll, and die already. So, anyway, Petey, what's up? You're being a good little spider? Obviously not, you're shit-faced, but I hope you're not talking to me tangled in six Asian chicks, at least. You're not, right? Cause that would be, like, a definition of unfair, since all I'm tangled in right now are guts. Am I grossing you out? You're gonna puke, Petey? Make sure Yoko holds your hair while you're at it. Or are there Asian boys with you? Please, tell me they're not boys, it would kill me. Ugh, you asshole, that hurt! You're lucky it's not the hand I'm holding my phone with! Die! Sorry, Petey, I have to go, I'm temporarily one hand short, so I'll have to call you back. Oh, right, I'm not supposed to. You only called me, cause you won't remember it in the morning. So, take care, Spidey, be good, and don't catch any STDs! Don't trust cute Asian boys!”  
Peter smiles. He didn't want to talk to Wade anyway. He just wanted to listen to Wade having a conversation for the both of them, like old times. Old times? Wade left three days ago, you big sap, you sad drunk. Peter slaps himself in the forehead, and takes a deep breath. So this is a good-bye. Say your good-bye, Parker.   
“Bye, Wade. I miss you.”  
“Wai-”  
Yeah, turning off the phone again. Killer smooth, Parker. Idiot. 

Peter gets back to his room in the middle of the night, and falls onto the bed, not even removing his mask. He's beat. Are thieves getting smarter, or is he getting older? He lies there for a while, motionless, evening his breath, trying to Jedi-mind-trick his bathtub to fill itself with hot water. Finally, he takes off his costume, and enters the bathroom. A long, hot bath. Nothing else matters. Hopefully, he won't fall asleep and drown. All his enemies wouldn't let him live it down. Oh wait, he'd be dead already. Still, not cool, Parker. When he gets back to the room, after an hour long soak that made him nothing but slack and sleepy, he sees Wade sitting on the edge of the bed.   
“Oh, wow, Petey, you're naked already, how did you know I was going to visit?”  
“Wade.” Peter deadpans, blinking. Oh God, he did drown in the bathtub. He can practically hear Green Goblin laughing his ass off.  
“Not happy to see me, I think, neither of you...” Wade frowns, while eyeing Peter's crotch.   
That's when Peter realizes he's naked. But Wade has never made him feel self-conscious, and it's not going to start happening now. He carefully approaches the bed, and Wade stands up in order to be more at level of Peter's head, not his... other head.   
“You said you weren't coming back.” Peter reminds him.   
“I said I don't plan on coming back. Like I didn't plan on leaving in the first place. Or on setting fire to your kitchen that one time I made pancakes. Or not showing up whenever...”  
“Okay, okay, I get it. You don't plan on things. You do them. Of course. You're an asshole, you know that? You did this on purpose, you wanted me to believe you weren't coming back. Why would you do that, that's, like, the most evil thing imaginable. I should have known. You're such an asshole, Wade. I hate you. I love you.”  
Peter clasps his hand over his lips. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit! He did not just say that! He has never used the L word anywhere near Wade's hearing range. Wade tells him he loves him all the time, but it's Wade, and he confesses his love to random Mexican Americans on the street, just because “their people make chimichangas.” Oh God, he probably looks like a human tomato. Look, no biggy, Parker. It's not like Wade is gonna laugh, or run away, or anything. He's heard Peter say and do more ridiculous and embarrassing things. He's seen Wade doing way more ridiculous and embarrassing things. They're good. Because Wade's grin is so wide, Peter's afraid his face is gonna split in half. Right. Out of sappy mode, as of now. It's Wade we're talking about. There's no way they aren't good.  
“Aw, Petey, you're so cute! Absolutely adorable! I missed you! And I love you, too! And, yes, that means you are more important to me than tacos, by the way. You know, not much more important, but still. Don't let it go to your head. Tacos are still better listeners than you. Taste better, too. Maybe not smell better, but-”  
“Wade. Shut up. This is embarrassing. Even for you. Let's not talk about it, okay? Ever. Don't you want your welcome-back-kiss?”  
“No. Cause that would be embarrassing, wouldn't it? But I could use a welcome-back-blowjob.”  
Peter smirks. Now he's on a familiar ground. So he told Wade he loves him. So Wade told him he's more important than tacos. So what? Nothing's changed. Not really. Wade's still gonna be an asshole, and stand Peter up at least three out of five times. And Peter will still call the next day, as if nothing happened. They're good. So Peter puts his hands on Wade's arms and pushes gently.  
“So what are you waiting for? It's right here. Or do I have to cover it with tacos first?”  
“Oh, Petey, that's so not what I meant, and I don't even care...!”  
Yup, they're good.


End file.
